F U C K E D U P C O L L E G E K I D S
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- t h e p o e t r y v e n t u r e -
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why do others swoon over poetry? without reading it..
just knowing that you write it, something drives them
to want to look into your soul. your cries that it
is private, lost on their unwilling ears.
sometimes romantic, sometimes sick, sometimes everything
else. the one thing it always is, is a true piece of
what you are. no wonder they want to read it.
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To Someone
You have built up someone you wish to be..
and someone you pretend to be..
you even tell yourself you are that way, even though you are not ...
who you wish yourself to be.
Someone who hurts others before they can hurt you.
Someone no one can fall in real love with,
so you never have to have heartache, again.
Wishing yourself to be someone who is hate-filled.
Inside a battle between good and bad, right and wrong rage on.
Not wanting to feel the good, so the bad does not seem bad.
Doing whats wrong, in hopes of destroying what is right ...
just like what was so right once destroyed a part of you.
I do not apologize for how you have become..
however I do apologize for how I dealt with you..
Even back then though that battle was beginning to rage.
A battle which, if I would have stayed - I would never have survived.
It is to the someone I once saw in you..
I beg that you let your heart's light shine.
And, it is to the someone who is today, that I hope never stays.
Anonymous
To You
Sitting down, I begin to read,
soaking in the words,
my very blood begins to boil.
Once you were not a coward,
you had a heart,
do not deny, because I know.
For shared them with me.
Cares, concerns, loves, likes,
instead of empty words and that are lies.
Lies of which you spin ...
Living a life that even you hate.
Eyes that held care,
a touch which warmed me.
Now hollows and sends chills
to everything you touch.
Young and niave,
wanting more than
what either oneof could give, a mistake.
Which changed you and I forever.
Part is by my doing,
part is your belief.
Having hurt one another
deeper than a boardsword ever could.
Somewhere the you I once knew
must reside ...
will he always hide?
Look up, stop dragging yourself down,
and realize you too could soar on
happinesses wings.
Be real instead of this one you built,
which you figure can never be hurt.
With your creation, you are now
a shell of what you wish
would never feel, again.
In reality you are murdering yourself.
And scared to feel,
you are scared to live.
Kamira October 28, 1997
SURVEYING THE GIRL GRIDDLE
it seems my house
is tilting south;
my two pancakes
bump into each other in the pan
like two heaping spoonful breasts
gently caressed by buttery hands -
I would love to taste the sweet syrup
between her fluffy thighs;
it is true - my house
is sinking south.
Indiana Poet Jan. 2, 1998
regarding religion
sinner mocks god in his sleep
emotional turmoil is sinner's drug
silly christian, don't you know not to fight?
i crucified your god in my dreams last night.
dis
i don't know when the depression started
i don't know when i went insane
all i remember is some girl standing on a road
some place
i cannot recall
all i remember is the way she wore a look of
dissatisfaction
across her beautiful face when she saw my
gaze.
i didn't know her heart
i didn't know her desires
i didn't know her wants
i didn't know her needs
i didn't know her life,past,dreams
all i knew was me and my heart
for it was the only thing that could speak to me.
i looked down upon her expression
with a feel of sadness, maybe that
is when it started, maybe it was
the day she told me to go away
without opening her mouth
rage
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E D I T O R S: jericho@dim.com & demonika@dim.com
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(c) Copyright. All poems copyright by original author.
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F O U N D E D: October 30, 1997